


You make me feel Nothing

by ThreeNicotinePatches



Series: Nothing [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dan doesn't deserve this, Dan-feels, Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Phil is everything, Phil is perfect, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, and Dan is hurting, i mean what were you expecting, phil is lovely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeNicotinePatches/pseuds/ThreeNicotinePatches
Summary: ~ Soulmate AU where a circle forms on every child’s wrist when it’s born, the colour signaling which sensation/emotion they are not going to be able to feel until they kiss their soulmate ~---“You’re telling me, my son …my sonwon’t ever love me?”He’s the weird kid. If they could just stop making sure he remembers, he might even be able to forget it for a few seconds.---Nominated for the Originality Award of the Phanfic Awards 2017! Thank you so much!





	You make me feel Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi you ♥ This is my first phanfiction, but not my first fanfiction in general, any feedback is appreciated!
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> EDIT: Thank you so, so, so much for nominating this for the Phanfic Awards 2017!!! It's super appreciated!! ♥♥♥

The first thing Dan sees when he opens his still baby-blue eyes, is his mother’s tears as she stares down at him. Of course, he can’t yet comprehend why, or what tears even are, but it’s the first thing he ever sees. His father is still quietly talking to the doctor.

“Are you sure? Is that really what it means?” he says, fear nearly tangible in his voice. The Doctor nods with a frown.

“I am very sorry, Mr. Howell. The circle on his wrist is midnightblue, and that means – “

“That he can’t feel love? Ever?”

It is very silent. Dan hasn’t made a sound since he was born, quietly breathing. His mom tears her eyes away from her child and whispers:

“You’re telling me my son … _my son_ won’t ever love me?”

The Doctor nods again. “I truly am _deeply_ sorry. This condition is very rare, in fact – “

“And there’s nothing we can do? Change it to something regular, like, I don’t know, orange?” Dan’s father is grasping at straws and they all know it, though he can’t be blamed. His son’s inability to love doesn’t make him unable to be loved, after all. Dan’s mother sighs.

“Darling, please stop. There is nothing we can do for him but accept it like it is. He might find his… soulmate … at some point, it’s not completely impossible. He’s going to be okay.”

But she doesn’t believe it, not really. Who would? A boy unable to love. How could he be okay?

She looks at her own yellow circle, filled with the green of her husband, and thinks back to the time when she couldn’t feel worry. It was a wild time, worrying about nothing can’t do much good to a person, but it wasn’t even remotely close to how bad her son is going to feel. Her husband, unable to feel jealousy until their first kiss, would be even less understanding about their son’s feelings, although it was weird at times - even for him.

Their silence stretches.

Finally, she asks: “Could we get his cuff right away, please? I don’t want to look at it any longer” and the Doctor leaves for a few minutes and when he comes back, he’s carrying a tiny black cuff, softly textured to be less irritating on the baby’s skin.

When they put it on, Dan makes his first sound. It’s a tiny huff, like he’s uncomfortable or unhappy, and the adults share sad looks.

And under the cuff, unnoticed by anyone, hidden from the world, the tiny circle lightens until it’s a light blue, like the sky on a spring day, shallow water, and the flowers of forget-me-nots.

 

* * *

 

Dan sits completely still on his chair while his classmates babble and giggle around him. The person who’s supposed to sit next to him, a sweet black-haired girl, has abandoned her chair in favour of sitting with her best friend - another giggling third-grader.

His face doesn’t show any emotion when they turn around to look at him and start giggling again, although of course he feels _something_. ‘I can’t feel _love’_ he wants to scream ‘not embarrassment’. But they don’t care. He’s the _weird_ kid.

If they could just stop making sure he remembers, he _might_ even be able to forget it for a few seconds. Although that’s kind of unlikely.

There’s this gaping hole in his chest, where something else should be. His mom says that’s where he’s supposed to feel love. He’s supposed to, but he can’t _._ He _can’t_.

He tried telling her he loved her once, but she just smiled a teary smile and said ‘It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to pretend, you’re perfect just as you are’ but she didn’t get it. She _doesn’t_ get it.

The teacher clears her throat and the class starts to settle down.

“Now now, no need to scream – we can all hear perfectly.” she is trying to be funny, Dan knows. The others find her funny. Maybe that’s because they like her.

“Today we’re going to talk about your circles” little ‘OH’s and ‘AH’s make their way through the classroom “I know you wanted to know everything about them the second you set foot in this school, but it is a very complicated topic and we didn’t want your little heads to worry too much.” She smiles. “Now you’re all grown up and you should learn everything important. Let’s check what you know already, hm? Who wants to go first?” A boy in the front raises his hand. “Yes?”

“It’s to find my soulmate. Mama said so!” the teacher smiles again and explains a little more, how the circle forms, when they’ll find their soulmates, why they’re not supposed to look at it, but Dan tunes her out. He knows everything he needs to know. Only when she starts putting up the colour charts he perks up.

There are a lot of colours, he realizes. And so many shades and hues and light and dark and it’s nearly overwhelming how many there are.

“Does everyone see their colour?” Dan’s eyes fly to one of the dark blues in the right lower corner. His little hands form fists. Anger, he _can_ feel. ~~why him why him why him~~

Everyone nods.

“Perfect! I’ll try to explain some of them, the most common ones and a few very rare ones, just because those are really interesting.” she’s still smiling, how can one person smile so much “But of course, if you want to talk about your colour in detail, just come to me after class. Now: orange is rather common – it means you can’t feel your hands.” A girl raises her hand.

“Yes?”

“But Miss, that’s not an emotion!”

The teacher nods. “You’re right, it isn’t. You shouldn’t think of your circles as emotional badges or something, it’s more about your senses. Of course, emotions are a part of it, but not everyone has a circle like that.” She pushes up her sleeve and shows the awed class her red circle with a silver middle.

“This red means I couldn’t feel my lips until I kissed my soulmate.” Some of Dan’s classmates giggle. Kissing is weird –  only grown-ups do it. The teacher ignores the noise.

“And the silver means my soulmate couldn’t taste salt before he kissed me. I know, salt doesn’t taste good to all of you” she grins when some of the children shiver in disgust “So for some of you it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. It shouldn’t be a bad thing to have an unfilled circle anyways! You are complete just as you are.” Dan wants to scream in her face. He glares at his cuff, instead.

“But back to the colours we have here – this lime green is also very common: it stands for fear. You realize by now that every circle has it’s good and bad sides, don’t you? Although the good sides may be hard to find sometimes - A very uncommon one is this light blue, for example. It means you can’t feel happiness. And a clean white, that’s hope. This gold over here: pride. Or this midnight blue.” her face darkens “it is the rarest of all the colours and it means you aren’t able to feel love.” Dan flinches and tries to hide his face in his textbook, keeping traitorous tears at bay.

The teacher’s face falls when she notices the little boy cowering in the corner. Silently, she sends a prayer to whatever deity may be out there. ‘Please let him find his someone quickly. Please let him never look like this again.’

For the longest time, it seems like no one listened.

 

* * *

 

Dan loves his cuff.

Yes, he _knows_ , that’s not very common.

Most kids hate it at first but if they know what’s good for them, they get used to it as early as possible. He’s been told that it’s the sweetest release to finally be able to wear your wrist bare when you find your soulmate, that it feels wrong to hide a circle, like it goes against nature and instinct and everything good and holy. ‘Maybe I just don’t have enough of that’ he thinks when the overly polite nurse tugs at the laces on his cuff with nimble fingers ‘Maybe I’m too broken to be normal’.

But he doesn’t say it. The nurses keep looking at his circle with that certain type of confused sadness in their eyes when he comes here once in a while to get his cuff changed.

He’d change it himself, has never really felt the need to look at it anyway ~~doesn’t want to, freak, freak, he’s a freak,~~ but there’s rules and there’s law and there’s weird stuff that his parents don’t tell him, so he goes to the care-centre every few years.

Especially now that he’s growing, his cuff needs adjustments.

The nurse, he reads on her tag that her name is Louise, the letters right next to the grey dot labelling her colour-blind, puts some salve on the tender skin on his wrist, frowning.

“You’ve got to take better care of your cuff, young man. Have you been scratching at this?” she chastises, tongue clicking once, twice.

He sighs. “I swear, I’m not trying to look at it. It happens when I sleep.”

A sympathetic look crosses her face. “Oh Darling. Well then, I hope you sleep better soon.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to tell your parents about this? It might help to talk things through.”

She’s nice, he realizes. He li- she’s nice.

He shakes his head no, though. His parents don’t need to know about this. He’s broken enough. He’s broken _them_ enough.

She nods slightly and closes her hand around his wrist to block off his view on his bare wrist for a little longer as she pulls out a box from under her table.

“Now, what kind of cuff do you want? Or did you bring your own?”

“One of yours is fine.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“You sure? Most kids your age –“

“I’m sure. The black one looks fine.” He’s had enough already. No matter how nice the nurse may be, he just wants his cuff on and be gone.

Louise only raises an eyebrow though.

Oh. right.

“Sorry, I mean that one, the darkest one.” He points to one with a simple but comfortably wide band - that way it’s impossible to catch a look at it accidentally.

She sighs and picks it out of the box. At second glance, it has small music notes stitched onto its fabric. Black on black. ‘Well’, he figures, ‘Why not?’

When he nods his approval, she removes her fingers from his wrist and gently pulls the cuff over his hand in one quick movement.

He breathes a sigh of relief.

The circle is gone again, gone for another year or so, gone, _hidden_.

Good.

 

* * *

 

Dan starts playing the piano when he turns nine, because when he does, he feels nothing. Not sad, not angry, not lonely, not frustrated, _nothing_. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, so he doesn’t stop playing until he’s so good at it his parents smile at him sometimes.

Although he’s proud, he doesn’t smile back – he’s tried pushing up the corners of his mouth sometimes, in front of a mirror, but it just felt weird. So he doesn’t.

But music notes become his best friends that year.

When he turns 14, that’s when he meets Layla. She’s a transfer student so she doesn’t know he’s different ~~weird, abnormal~~ and it’s perfect because she seems to like him and they go out for ice-cream after school and talk about strange teachers all the time. It’s perfect.

It’s still perfect when she tells him her circle is pink and that means that she can’t taste sweet things which is why she always gets lemon ice-cream.

It’s perfect right up until she asks him what his circle is and he thinks ‘screw it’ and tells her.

It’s never perfect again after that.

Two days later, the whole school knows who he is and his classmates start pestering him instead of plainly denying his existence. Murmurs of curses and scum and something evil surround him when he walks the corridors now.

That’s not the worst part, though – the worst part is that he thought he liked her. ‘I should’ve known better’ he thinks when he looks at her now ‘I should have known it isn’t worth it. I could never have loved her. Why should she put up with me? What is the point of someone who could never love his friends?’

When the others start talking about university and jobs and what they are going to do with their lives, Dan is silent. He doesn’t like doing anything besides playing his piano and while the others discuss cities and big dreams, he asks his parents what they think could be good for him.

And so he finds himself, barely eighteen years old, at university. In a room with two beds and little space and no parents and heavy books about law in his bags. He sits down on his duvet.

And he feels lonely.

He feels lonely until suddenly the door springs open and a tall, clumsy mess of a boy pushes his bags inside. His roommate, or so he presumes, grins the widest grin Dan’s ever seen on a person and sticks out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Phil. Well, Philip, but Phil sounds better, don’t you think?” Dan blinks. Phil, as he now knows, waits patiently with his hand still outstretched in front of him. After a few silent seconds, Dan remembers how to function and shakes the boy’s hand.

“Dan.”

Phil’s smile dims a bit at the brusque answer, but only for a second. He’s back to his rather smiley self impressively quickly and starts talking about everything at once: the cafeteria, his courses, the weird lady across the street and holy cow is that _your_ sheet music?

“Do you play an instrument? What kind?”

… He’s not going to be allowed to stay quiet with this guy, is he?

“I play the piano. Badly.” he says, turning away to type a text to his parents on his phone. Normally, that makes people shut the fuck up, but Phil seems dedicated to making friends with him.

As if.

“I don’t play anything, but you can totally play here if we manage to fit a piano in this hamster cage. I don’t mind, even if it’s bad!” Dan can hear him bouncing on his bed, although he’s trying very hard to ignore it. It doesn’t make sense to try and be friends with people. He doesn’t _like_ people.

“Look, would it be alright if I just went to sleep?” he keeps his voice steady, no use in showing fear when there’s nothing to stop it, no remedy, no antidote. Phil is silent for a moment. When he speaks again, his tone is different.

“Sure, I… sure.” _God_ , he sounds so … disappointed. Like Dan just ate the last cookie, or insulted his favourite show, or … killed a puppy, or something. For just a second, Dan regrets being so rude. Maybe he should…

But then the second is over and he remembers who he is.

He knows what nice people lead to – they make him get that weird feeling in his chest, when his heart gets tangled in knots and he wants to hug and talk and do things he shouldn’t want to do and frankly, it freaks him out. So he goes to bed and when Phil starts snoring quietly, he ignores whatever his heart does and closes his eyes on whatever _this_ is, whatever it will be.

When he wakes up, Phil is already gone. He tells himself he doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

University is a nightmare. Classes are horrible, the people are paired up in groups after two weeks already and he wanders the halls like a ghost.

It’s not like it’s much different from school, it’s just that here, he could have had a new start. He _could have_ but he didn’t because he didn’t have the guts to tell his parents no when they suggested law. He could’ve studied something he actually liked to – no, _wanted_ to do.

So really, it’s his own fault. It seems like that’s the basic concept of his life, when he thinks about it.

Phil doesn’t talk to him anymore, either. He tells himself he enjoys the quiet, the occasional sniffling from the other bed and how his roommate looks away from him when they cross paths coincidentally.

He’s never liked people. ~~Hasn’t he?~~

He’s just tired from all the studying. ~~Is that really true?~~

Phil’s rambling is annoying anyways. ~~Or is it endearing?~~

After a few weeks, he’s had enough. He’s far away from his parents or anyone who’s ever known him and with that comes loneliness – but also freedom. So what if he’s not supposed to be able to like people? He liked the way Phil smiled when they first met and he liked the way he looked at him and that’s all he knows right now.

That’s all he needs to know.

The next morning, he gets up early. The sun isn’t even up yet when he walks into the café a few streets from the dormitory and orders two caramel lattes and two muffins, one blueberry and one pistachio. Phil is still asleep when he comes back, quiet breaths and a few snores to be heard from his bed, so Dan puts one coffee and the blueberry muffin on his nightstand and just waits.

It takes about three minutes for the smell of coffee and pastries to wake him.

He grumbles, wiping the corner of his mouth unceremoniously with the back of his hand, and when his eyes open, they are unfocused and his frown confused.

“D-dan?” he gets out, fumbling hands searching for his glasses on the nightstand and bumping into the cup of coffee. He freezes. Dan holds his breath. Then, Phil’s fingers actually get a hold of his glasses and as he slides them onto the bridge of his nose, his gaze finds Dan. He blinks.

And he looks at the coffee. And the muffin.

And back to Dan.

“Did you – did you get me _coffee_?”

Dan blushes. “I … maybe?”

Phil’s frown deepens. “But why?”

A deep sigh escapes Dan’s lips and he bows his head so that he doesn’t have to look at the surprised suspicion on Phil’s face anymore.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a dick to you, but I was. And I wanted to apologize.” It’s deathly quiet until suddenly, he hears a tiny giggle. Dan’s head snaps up at the sound. Phil is _smiling_. _Why is he smiling?_

“What are you – “

“Apology accepted.”

Dan stills. “It… it is?” Phil nods with a shrug and takes a bite of his muffin.

“Of course it is” he mumbles with blueberry-stained lips “it’s not like you owe me anything, I’m used to this. It’s fine if you think I’m annoying, I know I can be a bit much sometimes-“

“You’re not annoying.” Dan hastily interrupts. Phil stops chewing for a second and looks at him like he’s trying to find the lie.

“I’m not?” For some reason, the surprise in his voice makes Dan’s heart ache.

“No, I’m just an asshole.” he quips to gloss over whatever he’s feeling at the moment and when Phil laughs and wipes the crumbs from his face, he can’t help but feel like getting coffee this morning was the best idea he ever had.

Until Phil grabs his cup and puts it to his lips and Dan nearly falls out of bed trying to stop him.

“Careful, that’s hot!” he squeaks and Phil blushes, startled and slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize.”

When Dan raises an eyebrow in confusion, he pulls up his sleeve, tugs off his cuff ~~like that’s just a normal thing to do and not literally _forbidden_~~ and holds his wrist so that Dan can see the unfilled circle on his skin. It’s a deep violet. Dan’s eyes widen.

“You can’t feel warmth.” he whispers and Phil grins and pulls his sleeve back over his hand, fiddling with his lime-green cuff.

“Nope. Cold as ice over here.” He sounds so _cheery_ , as if nothing in the world could bring him down.

Dan knows that can’t be true, though. He doesn’t even want to imagine how horrible it must feel to see people basking in the sunlight, or warming their feet at a fire, or soaking in a hot bath, and never being able to feel it himself.

Phil pulls him from his thoughts with a curious “Dan? What are you thinking about?” and it must be showing on his face because he continues “It’s not that bad, you know. I mean, I don’t sweat. That’s kinda cool, isn’t it?”

‘It _is_ kinda cool’, Dan thinks. He doesn’t say it, though. Instead, he gestures to the latte Phil is still holding and says:

“That should be cooled down enough to drink by now, if you ask me.”

Phil doesn’t seem to mind the change of topic because he smiles gratefully and takes a small sip from his cup. He licks his lips afterwards, his smile widening, and all of a sudden he starts bouncing on the bed excitedly.

“OH, you got me caramel! I _love_ caramel!” and with Phil’s crooked smirk directed at him, tongue sticking out a tiny bit at the side, Dan feels nothing.

Nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

He gets used to that feeling of _nothing_ embarrassingly fast.

Phil laughs – nothing.

Phil shows him something he found on Tumblr – nothing.

Phil smacks into the door without his glasses, giggles, and lets him put a patch on the bruise – nothing.

Soon it gets ‘Phil – nothing’ and he doesn’t want it to stop.

They go to museums together and Phil takes him to the Aquarium. They watch movies and listen to music and Phil doesn’t care that Dan never smiles and doesn’t talk much, says it fits, with how much he talks, and hey, he actually likes the bitchiness and Dan _doesn’t want it to stop._

Sometimes, when it’s quiet during the night and everyone else is sleeping, Phil sits next to the heater below the window and cries. And Dan … Dan has some experience with crying over missing pieces so he sits with him until the sun comes up again, stroking his hair when Phil’s head comes down on his shoulder. So of course, it isn’t all ‘nothing’. There’s _sad_ and there’s _tired_ , _scared_ and _angry_ , _hopeful_ and _desperate_ , but he doesn’t want it to stop anyway.

Of course, things never go the way he wants them to.

So of course, inevitably…

It _stops_.

They’ve taken a trip to the coast. It’s been a while since Dan actually got on a bus to go somewhere _with someone_ , probably since he went to see some play with his parents, and he’s a little scared but it’s okay.

Because it’s Phil.

They take their time with walking the cliffs, Phil enjoys the quiet and scaring tourists because he’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt and it’s December and Dan … Dan feels nothing. The grass crunches under their feet, a hint of frost already in the air and Phil skips along the way, kicking stones – and that’s when it happens.

Precious, clumsy, man-child Phil _stumbles_.

Even though they are metres away from the edge, there’s a spike of panic through the hazy cloud of emotions that’s been his mind lately and Dan closes the distance between them in record time and tries to catch him and Phil reaches out, grasping his arm with a yelp – and gets the cuff.

See, Dan hasn’t changed his cuff in a few years. Since he stopped growing, basically. He kept it on in the shower and in every weather and it’s _fragile_.

The black material rips right through.

As Phil lands on the cold ground and his eyes flicker to the exposed skin, Dan scrambles to pull his sleeve over his hand, his own eyes closed because _he won’t look at it_ , but he knows the damage has been done. He wants to scream, wants to tell the world to turn back a few seconds, just a few, but he can’t and the world keeps turning without him.

When he looks back into Phil’s face, he looks positively shocked.

And that’s when it all ends.

He comes back to himself a few minutes later, breathing ragged and wrapped in something soft and warm and he’s crouching in the wet grass and his lungs hurt and his heart is still racing and -

“What the fuck just happened?” he mumbles into the soft thing that seems to surround him – it doesn’t take him too long to realize it’s Phil’s jacket that he had been carrying wrapped around his hip. When he looks up, he’s centimetres away from Phil’s fear stricken face.

“I think you had a panic attack or something… I didn’t know what to do, though, so I just talked at you and I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to look at it, it just happened, I won’t tell anyone – “

And he remembers.

“Stop it.” Phil startles at the empty shell that is Dan’s voice.

“What?” he whispers, scared of startling his friend into something like what just happened again.

“Stop it, Phil. Can we please just … skip this part? The part where you tell me it’s fine and you don’t mind, because – “

“What the hell are you talking about, Dan? I’m the one in the wrong here, I should never have looked at it and I’m so sorry. So, _so_ sorry.”

The waves crash against the shore, far below the two, and nothing interrupts, nothing saves them from this, nothing ever could.

Dan sighs.

“Okay, I get that you want to be a good friend or something, but this is – “ the rest of his words gets muffled in Phil’s hand on his lips, preventing him from saying anything more and even though Phil is positively shaking and it would be easy to just pry his fingers off, he doesn’t.

Maybe something in him actually wants to listen.

“Dan. Dan, oh god, Dan, do you really think that? That was a rhetoric question” he says when Dan tries to open his mouth under his hand “Because if you do, you are the most stupid dickhead I never thought you were!”

‘He swore’ Dan thinks, and for a second that’s all he _can_ think ‘Phil actually swore… Wait, I’m a dickhead?’

Phil shakes his head in exasperation as though he actually heard everything Dan just thought.

“You are my best friend, Dan. You are bitchy and silent and dark and I like you, idiot, I don’t care, okay? I don’t care. Did you get that now, or do I have to keep talking? Because I will, don’t think I won’t!” Dan closes his eyes to stop the tears from falling.

He needs to hear this.  ~~there’s nothing he’s ever needed more.~~

“K-keep talking?” he whispers softly against Phil’s fingers. So softly, that he has to repeat it a few times but when Phil finally gets it, there’s a pained hitch in his breathing and suddenly there’s not only Phil’s jacket around Dan’s shoulders, but his entire body is wrapped around him like some kind of strangling snake, and he’s whispering hushed words into Dan’s ear –

“You’re perfect, okay, you fit me like a glove and eeeww that sounds so weird, for how much talking I do you’d think I’d be a little better at this _fucking hell_ , anyways – you’re wonderful and you actually listen to all that stuff I ramble about, no one ever does that, and you’re the best roommate I could ask for because you don’t go out and I don’t either and we can be antisocial losers together and you name your Pokémon weird names and when I’m not okay I don’t even have to say anything because you just _know_ and you don’t judge me if I can’t go out into the sun because I feel like I’m missing out, but what am I saying, you _know_ that and that’s the fucking best thing, okay? Also your hair is amazing right now and you should never straighten it again.”

Dan just hugs him tighter.

When he goes home for Christmas a week later, he asks his mom what love feels like.

She cries a little, but she actually thinks about it and that’s enough. She tells him that there’s the love she feels when she looks at Dan, that that’s more like a belonging and a certain gentle possessiveness and not the cutting feeling of romantic love. She talks about calm and a kind of pull in her chest and the way her heart skips a few beats sometimes when she looks at her husband.

And she says that it feels a little like drinking hot coffee too fast and it burns somewhere behind the ribs, which is the comparison that finally gets through to Dan.

Because that’s what Phil makes him feel.

Well, besides the nothing that he can’t explain.

But essentially, that’s what he makes him feel and it confuses him to no end. He wonders all the time how biology can explain the physical pain he feels in his chest when all he wants to do is be with Phil, because it can’t be _that_. He can’t feel… love.

So he decides that it must be something else. ~~But it feels like love.~~

* * *

 

He invites Phil over for New Year’s Eve and it’s a little awkward at first, because he’s never brought a friend home – to be honest, he’s never even _had_ a real friend – and his parents are suspicious. But after a few minutes of slightly stilted conversation, they relax and it actually evolves into the kind of feeling-nothing family dinner they haven’t had in a long time.

Until his dad turns to Phil over his plate of lasagna and says:

“We are very grateful, you know, me and my wife.” Phil swallows a mouthful of pasta and puts on a polite smile, while Dan feels the certainty of _dread_ settle in his stomach.

“What do you mean, sir?”

His parents share a small look. “Well, it’s very nice of you to be Dan’s friend. With his condition and all.” his mom says and Dan wills their ugly carpet to swallow him whole. Phil only frowns, though.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

Startled, Dan’s parents turn to him, their eyes wide open and their jaws slack in a twin expression of shock.

“You – we… we thought he told you, that he can’t – that his circle is midnight blue.” his mom stammers and Dan sighs:

“He knows, Mom.”

Mr. and Mrs. Howell visibly relax. But Phil… Phil sits up straight, like something hit him just this second and his eyes flicker between Dan and his parents, back and forth, until his eyebrows disappear behind his fringe and his face settles into a mask of badly hidden surprise.

‘What’s up with that?’ Dan thinks, but then Phil sends him a look that says ‘We’ll talk later’ and he nearly forgets about it all – until they return to university and to the isolated safety of their dorm room a few days later.

Phil has been quiet, more quiet than usual at least, so Dan tries his best ~~which is not much~~ to fill the silence.

“Do you want me to open a window, it’s kind of smelly in here. And by the way, how did you li – “

But Phil interrupts him, not unkindly:

“Dan?” he asks, his voice gentle but determined. At his tone, Dan instantly stops his movement towards the window and sits down on his mattress.

“Yes? What is it?” There’s something in Phil’s eyes that makes him feel like it’s important. His best friend sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and sits down opposite of him on his own bed. Part of Dan wants to be upset with this but he doesn’t get the time to be.

“Would you… could you tell me about your circle?”

Oh.

_Oh._

“I… of course.” he says and Phil looks relieved “… what do you want to know?” He’s not exactly sure where this is going, but it’s _Phil_. It’ll be alright.

“Everything, I guess. Whatever you’re comfortable telling me.” he says with a shrug, clearly faking nonchalance now that he knows his best friend will actually answer him. Dan wishes he could climb inside his brain to see what he’s thinking.

“I guess it all went pretty normal? I mean, my parents told me they put the cuff on me when I was basically still in the womb so that we wouldn’t have to look at it… be reminded of it, every second of the day. The midnight blue is somewhat… unusual as far as I know. So. There’s that.” Phil frowns, his lips pressed together tightly in a pained, white line.

“So you’ve never…?”

“… felt love?” Dan sighs and picks at the new cuff he got when his old one ripped “I guess not.” Something else creeps upon Phil’s face. Confusion? Hope?

“You guess?” he asks, like there is something he wants him to say here, but what is it? Where is this all going? Dan doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything; besides that he’d tell Phil anything and everything he asked for.

“I mean, I _can’t_ , I – “ he stammers … and makes a decision “– actually… can I tell you something weird, Phil?” His best friend smiles slightly.

“’course, you can tell me anything.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Dan doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if Phil would. But he just offers his right hand and says: “Pinkie Promise!”

Their fingers curl around each other and hold on for a second. Then Dan takes a deep breath.

“I … I think I have. Felt love. And I know that it’s weird because I shouldn’t have, and I’m probably just crazy or something, but it felt like I did…“ he stops for a moment, checking Phil’s face, but there’s only curiosity. “I had a … friend, once. I mean, I think she was a friend. And I’m pretty sure I liked her. And of course I love my parents, I love them so much, even though they made me study law and they always look at me with that horrible … sad-eyed look and I don’t know how or why but I love them.”

He doesn’t dare to look at Phil now, because if he sees anything but acceptance there, he’s not sure he’ll continue.

But he _has_ to.

“And then… there’s you.” there’s a hitch in Phil’s breathing but he can’t stop to look at him now, he can’t “You’re something… different. Because when you took me to the aquarium and your skin looked blue, I thought I loved you.” Phil is definitely breathing funny now. But he’s not finished yet. “When you sat with me at lunch the first time, I thought I loved you. When you told me I was bitchy, I thought I loved you. And when we were on that trip to the coast, I was so damn sure I loved you and every time you smile or you giggle or you do that smirk where I can see your tongue poking out at the side, I forget how I can’t love, _I_ _just do_. And I don’t fucking know what to do about it because I shouldn’t even be able to.”

He breathes. And then he looks at Phil.

He’s never been more surprised.

Phil is _crying_.

A steady stream of tears flows down his cheeks, his shoulders are shaking and his eyes are screaming sorrow and deep regret and pain, so much pain.

“Phil?” he reaches out with a shaking hand and tries to brush away the wetness from Phil’s face, but it only makes him cry harder “Phil, please, what’s wrong, what do you want me to –“

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, I-“ his voice, oh god his voice

“Whatever _for_ , Phil, wha –“

“D-do you want to kiss me?” it’s quiet. The only sound to be heard are Phil’s shaky breaths and Dan’s beating heart, although maybe only he can hear that. It’s so loud.

“I…” he feels himself blushing.

Phil clears his throat. “On the cheek, I mean”, he mumbles and Dan relaxes a bit. But the blush stays.

“I – yes.”

Phil smiles, although Dan can barely see it through all the tears. And then he moves closer, so much closer, and offers his cheek with a tiny grin.

“Then go for it” he whispers but it feels like he’s shouting.

And Dan goes for it.

The moment his lips touch the wet skin of Phil’s cheek, it’s there.

A feeling like a balloon that popped in his chest, like a million bumblebees are trying to fit themselves in his ribcage, like galaxies are being made there and the sun itself burned its way into his body. He feels like he’s lost the ground under his feet and it’s _scary_.

“Oooh god, what is this, Phil, I’m scared, it’s too much, what is my _heart doing_?” he squeaks and buries his head in Phil’s chest to hide his face, because what is his mouth doing, what is his body doing, what is _happening_?

Phil pulls him on his lap across the gap between their beds, tight against his chest and breathes in the smell of his skin, mumbling somewhere into his hair, his voice still thick with tears:

“It’s happiness, Dan. You’re happy.” and he gently pries Dan’s arms from his chest where they lie shielding his body and unties the cuff with shaking fingers.

He holds it so Dan can see his circle and Dan looks, because he trusts him.

It’s light-blue. Light-blue like Phil’s eyes and it’s filled with the deep violet of Phil’s circle and everything is Phil.

“You – what – I –“

“Of course you can feel love, Dan. You always could.”

Somehow, in the depth of his mind, he understands.

“But. But how?” Phil jerks his shoulders in a tiny shaky shrug.

“Well, I can’t know for sure, but I think your circle hadn’t finished forming when your parents put the cuff on you.” Dan thinks. And nods. That actually sounds… very much like his parents. If they ever did anything to the max, it was protecting him. Misplaced worry it seems, in this case.

His circle is burning up, itching and moving within his skin, like it’s trying to arrange itself into something it isn’t yet – and Phil is his soulmate. 

Phil is his soulmate. ~~PhilishissoulmatePhilishissoulmatePhilishissoulmate~~

They look good together, their colours on his wrist. He strokes the outline of his circle with a thumb and when he looks up, Phil is smiling slightly through all the tears. It makes his lower lip plumper somehow, stretching over his teeth.

‘He’s so beautiful. My soulmate is so beautiful’ he thinks to himself and it makes the bumblebee-feeling flare up again, but then he realizes that he could tell him and somehow, that’s even better.

“You are so goddamn beautiful, Phil.” he whispers and Phil blushes.

“You’re only saying that because I’m your soulmate. I’m nothing special.” he mumbles, and _no_ , that just won’t do.

“Have you seen yourself?!” Dan exclaims and wow, that’s new, he’s _excited_ “You’re … stunning. Your hair is gorgeous and your skin is perfect and your eyes are the colour of happiness – I don’t know what else I could want.”

“… my eyes are what?” there’s disbelief in his voice, doubt and uncertainty and Dan wants it _gone_ , right this second. He takes his soulmates – _good god_ – face in both hands, as gently as he can and just looks at him, stroking softly across his cheekbones. The flush spreads across Phil’s nose.

“What are you doing?” he asks, confused and slightly emberassed.

“I’m looking at you. And I can’t see anything that’s not beautiful. I’m trying here, honestly” Phil giggles a little “but I just can’t find a single thing.” Not if he looked at him for the rest of his life. 

There’s nothing imperfect about Phil. Not a single thing.

“Oh god, you’re going to be the death of me.” Phil mumbles, biting his lip uncertainly. Dan can see the question in his eyes, knows that Phil’s circle is still empty, and pulls him a little closer still.

“Do you … want to kiss me, too?”

Phil ducks his head with a huff and teases: “On the cheek, you mean?”

Dan shakes his head and something tugs at his lips, something weird, a strange and unfamiliar sensation, making him touch his mouth with two fingers. His eyes widen, when he realizes what’s happening to him.

“I’m smiling!” he exclaims, undeniable glee in his words and Phil’s eyes start watering again. He just closes them, though, and rests his forehead against Dan’s.

“I’m so in love with you.” he whispers, as if he’s telling a secret.

The words start a whole new array of feelings in Dan’s chest, the bumblebees fighting the hot coffee, and he really needs new names for these feelings, this is getting weird, but oh god he’s never felt this way.

And when Phil pulls him even closer, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss, he stops trying to name whatever he’s feeling and just accepts the whirlwind of sensations that it is.

Suddenly, Phil gasps, gripping Dan’s waist tighter.

“You’re – you’re so warm” he mumbles into his lips, sounding like Dan just handed him the sky with all its stars and planets. He grins.

“That’s because I’m so in love with you.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. Then Phil starts laughing too much to keep their faces together, leans back a bit, looks at him and yup, that’s the colour of happiness right there –

“Did you just quote Star Wars at me?” he giggles and Dan joins him and when he nods, Phil slaps him playfully on the back of his head and says:

“Come on, Padmé, let’s get some hot coffee. I want to know what that tastes like.”

And in that moments, Dan knows:

Feeling nothing with Phil never stood a chance against being _happy_.

With Phil.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed ♥
> 
> If you want to vote for this story in the Originality category of the Phanfic Awards 2017, go [here](http://lackofcooperation.tumblr.com/post/169707439535/voting-for-phanfic-awards-2017-is-now-open)!


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